


Marching Forward

by Kawaiicoyote



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angry Derek, Curious Stiles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:33:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiicoyote/pseuds/Kawaiicoyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles first intention is not to snoop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marching Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeeGollyWiz13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeGollyWiz13/gifts).



> So this could also go with my series "Decisions" as a part three but it's mostly a stand alone. You don't to read it to understand this one.
> 
> Written for Kayla because she gave me the idea for the other one.  
> Contains some information from the Teen Wolf novel (I high suggest reading it because it's awesome)
> 
> Unbeta'd, my apologies.  
> I own nothing!

Stiles first intention is not to snoop. Generally when it comes to people’s privacy, he usually respects their wishes and keeps his nose out of their business and their belongings. Unless it deals with his father’s police scanner, then he just can’t help his self.

When it comes to Derek Hale, he’s the first one to keep his nose out of the alpha’s business. So far in fact, that he would judge it has taken up residence three towns over and now owns a temperamental Siamese cat.

But when he finds himself rifling through Derek’s drawer to borrow a pair of track pants and his fingers knock against a tiny black box, well, his curiosity gets the best of him. And the little voice that’s in the back of his head, telling him that is a suicide mission for a curious cat to be in den full of wolves, is stamped down and paved over with asphalt.

Stiles really can’t help himself as he sits back on his heels and examines the box. It’s old, and has clearly seen its better days.

He stands and crosses the bedroom and plops down on the end of his and Derek’s bed and flicks open the box.

His eyebrows raise and he absently scratches the back his neck.

Inside is a ring.

A simple ring and it makes a million different thoughts flit through Stiles’ mind.

At first he wonders if it’s an engagement ring but shakes the thought instantly. He and Derek are probably almost to the point that they’re that serious but the ring clearly for him, at all. It’s old, like the box it resided in, the gold metal of the band is warped and mostly black, only bits of gold showing through. The two light green stones are just as dirty as the band, and there’s a spot right in the middle where an obvious third matching stone is supposed to be.

Stiles is stumped and wonders why Derek would have something like this at the bottom of his dresser. His mind supplies that it was a relatives ring, that makes the most sense to him as to why it’s in the state it’s in. He tilts his head and traces a finger along the jewelry lost in thought. Maybe it was his mom’s, or maybe his sister Laura’s, and it was too painful for Derek to get it fixed or display it.

The thoughts dissipate from his mind when he hears a floorboard squeak and his head snaps up and he sees the stony face of Derek as he stands in the doorway.

It’s a look Stiles hasn’t seen since they first met in the woods when he and Scott had been looking for Scott’s inhaler, and the other missing half of Laura Hale.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Derek snaps, eyes beginning to glow red as he takes an advancing step inside the door.

Stiles throat clicks audibly as he swallows and snaps the lip of the little black box shut. He suddenly feels like a very naughty child caught with his hand in his mother’s purse.

“I.. I was looking for pants,” Stiles stammers out nervously, which is completely unlike him. He hasn’t been scared or intimidated by Derek Hale since forever. Derek’s broody growly demeanor had long since turned from scary to downright sexy. But currently, he feels anything but aroused.

Derek scoffs, lips turned down in a sneer. “That doesn’t look like pants to me Stiles.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a ring; clearly even you can process that.”

Stiles flinches as if he’s been slapped. Derek can be snappy and snarky but he hasn’t spoken to Stiles like this in so long that it verifies that he has royally fucked up on some level for finding the little black box of doom.

“Who did it belong to?” Stiles asks, his voice quiet, fingers still clasped around the box as he stared up wide eyed at Derek who is now standing in front of him, everything about his stance screaming ‘ _I’m pissed off’_ with how his eyebrows are knitted in a deep scowl, his arms crossed defensively over his chest and spine completely rigid.

“Kate Argent,” Derek says through gritted teeth.

“Why do you have her ring?”

“I _gave_ it to her.”

Stiles shifts uncomfortably on the edge of the bed and fiddles with the box that he’s still holding. He looks anywhere but Derek and feels an icy ball of hurt and jealousy and confusion forming in the pit of his stomach.

“So you what proposed to her or something?” He doesn’t mean for the question to sound as bitter as he does, but Derek’s answering growl shows him he’s already pushing the limit.

“Not exactly,” Derek finally answers, no less ridged. “I gave it to her when I was a stupid kid, when I thought I knew what love was and I wanted to show her how I felt.”

His eyes are on the box that Stiles’ is holding and Stiles swears he can almost see every bad memory flit across the older man’s face.

“How did you get it back?” This time Stiles voice is nothing but curious and soft. Derek lets out a deep breath through his nose and rakes an open palm tiredly over his face.

“She tossed it into the flames to burn along with my family.”

Stiles is silent, a frown gracing his features as he opens and closes his mouth. Gaping like a fish out of water as he tries to form words.

Finally he takes a breath and raises his gaze to Derek and asks, “Then why do you still have the thing if all it does is obviously makes you feel like shit?”

“As a reminder!” Stiles jumps at the pure venom dripping from Derek’s words. He looks up at him with wide eyes at him.

“A reminder for what, Derek?”

“To remind me not to get too comfortable, not to let my guard down. Letting my guard down got my family killed and I won’t let it happen again.”

Stiles grinds his teeth and in an instant he’s on his feet, standing toe to toe with the alpha. “I am not Kate Argent.”

Derek goes to turn his head but Stile’s hand shoots out and grabs his strong chiseled jaw and makes him keep looking at him.

“Stop damn you, just stop,” Stiles breathes, his face contorted into a scowl. “Stop comparing what we have to that damn dead bitch! I’m tired of it and I’m done with this shit Derek. Man up and move on, quit dwelling. She’s dead, you’re alive. I’m not her and I never will be. So just fucking stop.”

Stiles tosses the black box onto the floor, breathing hard, not breaking eye contact.

They’re at a stalemate, neither one of them making a move, not even blinking, just crowding each other’s space and breathing one another’s air.

“Can’t you just let a good thing happen without waiting for the other shoe to drop?” Stiles asks in a soft voice, daring to reach out and take Derek’s hand in his and gives a small squeeze.

He almost misses Derek’s squeeze in return with how light it is. He shakes his head and looks away his lips set in a thin line.

“I know you’re not like her,” He finally says, voice low and gruff. “But I know I can’t let my guard down again, if I get too comfortable it’ll make me weak and that got everyone killed last time.”

Stiles laughs breathily and Derek growls, he can’t see what’s so funny.

“You have a pack that’s here for you. And you may be mister big bad alpha but you can huff and puff all you want it still won’t change the fact that you can relax for once, Derek. Why can’t you see that?”

Derek is shaking his head and moves to step back but Stiles clings tight to his hand, his blunt nails digging into his skin. The alpha looks three seconds away from slamming Stiles into the nearest wall and gives a warning growl but stubbornly Stiles holds on and shakes his head.

“Stop running from your own happiness you damn sourwolf!” Stiles snaps and does his best imitation of a growl right back at Derek.

He jerks back, his thick black eyebrows shooting skywards, eyes wide with surprise.

“Did you just growl at me?”

“That’s not the point!” Stiles sounds scandalized and the tips of his ears go bright red.

Derek laugh, actually laughs, with a beaming smile that makes Stiles melt but he still scowls at him. “Stop being adorable when I’m trying to talk sense into you!”

Derek’s face sobers but his eyes are light with amusement.  “Okay.”

“What okay?” Stiles eyes him wearily.

“I’ll try to stop running from my own damn happiness.”

Stiles continues to watch him suspiciously only to have his eyes go wide then fall shut when Derek’s lips descend on his. The tension from earlier has all but dissipated.

 The ring and the box left forgotten on the floor as they continues to kiss, Derek slowly backing Stiles up to the bed.

The sun has just slipped from the sky when Derek ventures out from the house. He casts a look to his bedroom window where he knows Stiles is still sleeping.

His boots crunch loudly as he makes his way through the forest. The air is crisp and cold and fills his lungs, it grounds him.

When he reaches the large lake that’s on his property he stares out at the calm black water. It’s a place he’s finally able to revisit with the newly built pack. It’s no longer a bad reminder for him, more bittersweet than anything.

Derek pulls the small black box he plucked from his bedroom floor out of his pocket. It’s light and it feels smooth under his fingertips. It still smells like smoke and death and regret. But he no longer needs the old relic to ground him. He has a pack and a family to do that for him. He has hope, he no longer needs the guilt and regret that weights heavy on his heart.

Derek pulls his arm back and then throws the box as far as he can into the lake. He doesn’t watch to see where it falls, only heard the soft splash as it hits the water.

He doesn’t look back; instead he continues to march forward.

Just as he should have done all along.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So let me all know what you think.  
> Kudos and Comments are like pure mana for my soul.


End file.
